


Notes

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Library, Charlie Ships It, College Student Castiel, Fluff, Librarian Dean, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-05
Updated: 2014-11-05
Packaged: 2018-02-24 04:32:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2568293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean had been working at the college campus library for about two years, and he'd seen all kinds of students pass through the stacks: frazzled sophomores, exhausted freshmen and juniors, and seniors that had adopted an "I-don't-give-a-fuck" attitude. He'd seen hundreds, maybe thousands of kids walking around, searching for books. He never took the time to really meet any of them - right up until the moment he laid his eyes on Castiel Novak for the first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Notes

Dean was putting away book after book, carefully sorting through the stacks. He wheeled the cart around the various shelves of books, waltzing through the fiction section and coming to rest around the shitty romance novels. Scoffing as he read some of the back covers, he placed a few paperbacks on the top shelf. His shirt pulled up as he lifted his arms, chilly air making goosebumps travel down his skin. A whistle cam from down the aisle, a soft, high noise that filled the air pleasantly. 

"Lookin' good as usual, Winchester," Charlie smiled as she said the words, walking up to him and tickling the exposed space of Dean's side.

He leaped back, tugging the fabric down and slapping her hand away. "You're pretty handsy for someone that doesn't go for guys, Charlie." 

"Had to tickle those little freckles, Winchester. One day, you'll have a guy to kiss them for you. I know you'd prefer Han Solo, but-"

"If you set me up with another guy then I'm gonna have to chop off your bangs again, Bradbury." Dean gripped the edge of the cart, worry creating knots in his stomach. 

_"You wouldn't dare-"_

"Oh, I would," Dean held up his index and middle fingers, closing them together complete with  _snipsnipsnip_ sound effects. Charlie huffed and walked back down to the front desk to help a freshman with his book.

Dean sighed as he leaned back against the shelf, heartbeat slowing. Just the  _mention_ of a date had scared him - it wasn't like he didn't like hook-ups or anything. He just hadn't had much luck, lately. The little success he  _had_ made had been less than satisfying, and since Dean Winchester was a master of sex and love and fucking, he felt like he deserved a little more than what he'd gotten. Alas, he was having to settle for below-average dates and below-average  _everything._

Dean finished putting the books up, rolling the cart into the back office where they kept all of their repair supplies. Pages were often ripped and covers were typically lost, so Dean spent most of his time in the back corner of the library instead of at the front desk with Charlie. He enjoyed the peace and quiet, the ability to work with his hands- it was calming work, albeit some of the stuff he found written in the books was ridiculous. Most of it made him laugh, especially the side commentary in the one copy of  _50 Shades of Grey_ that the college library owned. Still, he had to erase and mark over and all of that - it was tedious, at times.

After he had finished working on what must have been his twentieth cover repair of the day, he heard a small knock on his door. Charlie stood in the frame, fluorescent light casting a glow around her. She gave him a soft smile, gesturing to her wrist before walking back out again. Dean grumbled slightly as he stood up and locked the office behind him, watching students shuffle out and into the November night. He checked up at the front desk, removing a pack of sticky notes that Charlie had stolen from the back corner earlier. Dean stood up tall again, surveying the room once more as he gathered his own belongings - coat, three books, backpack, and hat. Only five kids remained in the room, all of their noses buried in books or in their arms.

Dean didn't know why he called them kids, considering that he was only 24 - just two years older than the seniors. He walked around the room, gently shaking their shoulders or tapping their backs to wake them up. The last student that remained had his face tucked into his arms, resting on the wooden tabletop. Dean placed a hand on his shoulder, rousing him from sleep. The student lifted his head up, dark brown hair sticking up at odd angles. When Dean saw his face in full, he felt the air leave his lungs.

Shockingly blue eyes, almost an unnatural color. Dark lashes that drooped heavily, his eyes still half-closed and tired. His cheeks were slightly flushed from being pressed down, and the pink color highlighted the similar shade of his lips -  _very_ beautiful lips, bow-shaped and full. There was a slight stubble on his cheeks, and everything about his clothes and appearance screamed "hasn't slept well in days". Dark circles curved under his eyes, and for some reason, Dean just wanted to make them go away. He wanted to see this guy  _smile._

"Hey, bud. Library's closing. Time to go," Dean patted his shoulder again, the man turning his head to look at Dean. 

"Can I stay for another hour?" His voice was  _rough,_ like he'd had a bottle of Jack before talking.

"Sorry, no can do."

"Alright. Thank you for waking me." He rose out of the seat, shoving his books in his bag and rubbing his eyes grouchily.

Dean walked out with him, closing the door behind him and locking it.  Expecting the other man to have walked away, he was surprised to find Mr. Blue Eyes still standing there, squinting in the starlight.

"Need something?"

"What is your name?" He tilted his head, and Dean tried not to think of the action as  _adorable._

"Um... Dean. It's Dean." He took his hand out of his coat pocket, extending it to shake. When the student's hand gripped his, Dean could practically feel sparks under his skin.

"Hello, Dean. My name is Castiel."

With that, the stranger took off down the road, not a single glance given over his shoulder.

 

***

 

The next day, Castiel was in the library. Dean wasn't sure when he had walked in, but he did notice that Castiel gave him a small nod in greeting when their eyes met. Dean waved a little in response before hurrying over to the front desk, hoping he wasn't  blushing.

"You're blushing," Charlie stated. "Why? Is it the dreamy guy over there?"

"What? No, there's no-"

"It  _is_ the dreamy guy! He kept looking up at the back office. You should talk to him." _  
_

"No, Charlie that would be-" 

"Dean."

Her eyes were steady, expression stubborn. 

"Please, don't." Dean sounded exasperated - he could hear it in his own voice. Luckily, Charlie relented, walking off with a roll of her eyes and a soft touch on his shoulder. 

Dean spent the rest of the day glancing occasionally at Castiel, trying to look nonchalant as he reorganized the non-fiction section five times. Charlie gave him a pointed look every time she saw him, but he ignored it. He really,  _really wanted to talk to Castiel,_ but he couldn't. Not directly, anyway. 

Indirectly? Fuck yes.

Dean scribbled a quick message down on a note, handwriting messy but legible. As soon as Castiel got up to browse another section of the library, Dean made his move - he walked over, planted the note on the front of Castiel's book, and hurried off. His heart beat rapidly in his chest, and he hid behind a stack of autobiographies while he waited for the other man to come back. When Castiel sat down, he didn't notice the note immediately - but after flipping through his new research novel and turning back to the old one, he saw it. 

_Your eyes are like sapphire galaxies._

Dean knew it was ridiculously sappy, but it was the truth. The fact that Sam had convinced him to read a few poetry pieces earlier that week hadn't helped, either.

Castiel looked up from the note, glancing around the room before that beautiful, rosy shade came to rest on his cheeks again. Dean felt like walking up to him and kissing the color from his skin, but that probably wouldn't have ended well with the library being almost entirely full. He went about his usual work, silently proud of reaching out to the other man. Sure, it wasn't  _real_ reaching out, but he'd done  _something._

The next day, Castiel walked in and gave Dean the nod again, sitting down. About two hours into his study session, he got up to to leave the room, and once again, Dean put a message on his notebook. This one was better than the first, or so he thought:  _I'd love to talk about how the world began with you._ Castiel seemed like the kind of person that would want to talk about that kind of thing. When he got back and saw that note, the broad smile on his features showed Dean that he had  _definitely_ been successful this time around. So he kept doing it.  _  
_

Almost every day, Castiel would walk in, and slowly, he and Dean began to talk more. He started calling him "Cas", and Dean learned that he was a senior that wanted to become an astrophysicist. Dean shared some things about himself, too - his younger brother Sam and his beautiful possible-fiance Jess, the way he didn't talk to his Dad much anymore, how much he missed his college days even though he spent every fucking day on campus. Cas and Dean clicked in a way Dean had never experienced before, and the notes kept coming. 

_The stars are nothing compared to the brightness of your smile._

_I could write poetry about the ways I'd have you._

_I haven't had a crush this bad on someone since seventh grade._

_You look lovely in blue._

_You encapsulate everything beautiful about humans._

_Your voice is stunning. Could you narrate my life if I ever get a movie?_

Some were stupid, others heartfelt. Dozens of messages, spanning months - Cas asked him about it a few times, and each time, Dean told him that he had never seen anyone put messages in Castiel's books. 

 

***

 

 It was mid-March, the chill in the air has started to fade, and so many students spent time studying and preparing for final projects that Dean and Charlie agreed to leave the library open an extra two hours. That meant an extra two hours of seeing Cas and getting to bring him coffee and making stupid jokes and just having  _fun -_ more fun on the job than Dean had had since his friend Benny stopped working there. 

On a Wednesday, Castiel stayed later than usual - all the way to closing time. Dean shooed out the students, letting Cas stay for a few extra minutes while he closed the extra offices and placed some novels back on the shelves. The flooring in the building was carpet, so Dean didn't hear the other man walking up behind him. When he felt a hand on his shoulder, his first instinct was to jump forward, dropping the Vonnegut book he'd been carrying. He turned, prepared to battle, when he saw that it was just Castiel.

Castiel. Standing just a few inches away from him. Staring at him.  _Castiel._

"Hey, Cas. What are-"

"Is it you?"

Cas leaned in, pressing Dean back against the shelves. "Are you leaving the notes?"

"Umm- I, uh - Cas-" Dean stuttered, brain grinding to a halt as Castiel leaned in even  _closer,_ face a mere two inches away from Dean's.

"So it _is_ you." 

Dean opened his mouth in an attempt to defend himself, but he found that instead of Castiel panicking or walking away, they were kissing. Dean was getting kissed like it was the end of the world tomorrow, Cas's lips hot and forceful against his own. The dark-haired man opened his mouth, letting his tongue trail over Dean's bottom lip before pulling away and biting at the same spot. Dean was still immobile, letting himself be manhandled into the position Cas wanted him - that position being backed completely up against the shelf, a hand in Dean's hair and the other running down his chest. 

Dean broke away for air, breathing heavy despite barely having participated in the kiss. Castiel stared at him, hand still stroking through his hair. _Wow, he's got blue eyes._  When his fingers gave a slight tug, Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel's waist and pulled him forward, meeting again in a clash of warm air and soft lips. Dean was having trouble thinking about what to do - _what does he like? What doesn't he like? Oh shit, don't screw this up._

 Cas's lips were pliant as Dean licked his way in, mapping out the wet heat of Castiel's mouth. He licked the roof of his mouth, a shiver running down Dean's back when he heard the moan Castiel let out. He repeated the action, loving the feeling of the other man pressing against him and their bodies slotting together. A soft roll of their hips had both men sighing and moaning, Dean smiling lazily.

Castiel nipped at Dean's lips again, this time soothing the action with soft kisses. Cas moved down to Dean's neck, hands shifting to the collar of his button-down. He swiftly opened the buttons, locking his lips to Dean's collarbone and sucking lightly. Dean let a hand travel up to Cas's hair, knotting his fingers in the soft strands and sighing when Cas moved back up to mouth at his pulse point. Dean let his head fall to one side, allowing Castiel greater access to the space on his skin; Castiel took advantage of the new angle, leaving a trail of bruises down Dean's throat. He felt hot breath against his neck, followed by softer kisses - no longer sucking and biting and marking, but calming.  _Gentle._ _  
_

"Dean."

"Yeah, Cas?"

"You really should write that poetry about the ways you'd have me. I would love getting to act out your ideas."

Dean blushed, yet he still smiled when he saw the soft grin on Castiel's face.

In fact, neither of them could  _stop_ smiling. 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed!  
> feedback is appreciated~  
> (sorry for mistakes, hastily checked over)


End file.
